


Per Somnia

by wraithsonwings



Category: The Exorcist (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode s02e08 A Heaven Of Hell, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, POV Marcus, Season/Series 02, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 17:39:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16351169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wraithsonwings/pseuds/wraithsonwings
Summary: A companion piece toWhere God Used To Be, perhaps you could even call it a sequel of sorts.Exhausted, Marcus takes Tomas' advice and rests.





	Per Somnia

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [fragile-teacup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_Gene_Hunt/pseuds/fragile-teacup) for the beta, even though they've never seen the show. So, yeah, any character or canon errors are my own.
> 
> Also, I debated the rating of this fic for a bit. I suppose it's _technically_ explicit, but barely. I decided on a hard M. ;)

  

 

* * *

 

 

Exhausted, Marcus settled onto Andy’s couch. If he could get a couple hours’ sleep, he’d be fit to help Tomas again. He drew a few deep breaths to calm his over-caffeinated heart.

 

His heavy lids slipped shut.

 

_Poor Peter. Could’ve been so normal together..._

  


… Peter laughed behind the wheel, backlit by the setting sun over his shoulder as they drove along the deserted highway. There was nothing but corn as far as the eye could see. Marcus stared at his beautiful face, charting every laugh line, his crow’s feet, and the soft twinkle in his eye. He knew Peter was saying something. He watched his lips move, forming pleasant shapes, but couldn’t hear over his own heartbeat, over the desire to reach out and touch. He raised his hand…

  


… Peter pulled him under the spray, rinsing the shampoo from his hair. Steam filled the small shower and hot water cascaded over him. Marcus crowded Peter against the tiles and he hissed.

 

“Cold, luv?”

 

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

 

“I’ve got something for you to handle.”

 

Marcus barely got that out before cracking up. When Peter laughed, he could no longer look him in the eye.

 

“I’m so sorry. That was terrible.”

 

Peter took his chin and tilted his face back up.

 

“That was amazing.” He snorted when he laughed. “And I’m going to take advantage.”

 

He kissed Marcus, tongue teasing, and his hand wrapped around Marcus’ cock with a firm squeeze. Marcus bucked into that touch, reaching for…

  


… Peter’s arm wrapped around his shoulder, steadying as the boat rocked. The crisp air sharpened Marcus. He felt more alive, more conscious of Peter’s warmth at his side. He could see their breath in the moonlight. Though never bothered by the cold, he shivered. He refused to let the darkness press too close. He squeezed Peter’s hip.

 

“Are you cold? Do you wanna head back, Marcus?”

 

“No, darling.” He placed kisses along his jaw until he could whisper in Peter’s ear. “Warm me up right here.”

 

He undid the button on Peter’s jeans, slipping his hand inside...

  


… Peter sipped his coffee, the newspaper spread before him on the table, and adjusted the glasses perched on his nose. Marcus could see rain falling out the window above the kitchen sink. He turned his attention back to pushing his half-eaten breakfast around his plate.

 

“You not hungry, hon?”

 

Peter’s soft voice dripped concern.

 

“I guess my eyes were bigger than my stomach.”

 

Marcus stood to scrape his plate and drop it in the sink. As he turned the water on, arms snaked under his arms and around his chest. Peter placed a kiss on his cheek and then rested his chin on Marcus’ shoulder.

 

“What do you want to do this afternoon?”

 

“I don’t know. Any ideas come to mind?”

 

“Well, it’s really starting to come down outside, so I think we should stay in.”

 

Peter hugged him tight and, sucking bruises to life along his neck, staked his claim. Marcus melted against him, closing his eyes. Warmth spread through him and settled deep into his bones, chasing the chill of loneliness away.

  


When he opened his eyes, it was gone. He stared at Andy’s wallpaper, blinking slowly. _Had he been sleeping?_ _Dreaming?_ His chest ached and tears cooled on his cheek. He wiped his face as he stood.  Whatever it was didn’t matter. There was work to be done.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and any kudos or comments you may leave.
> 
>  
> 
> Join me on [Tumblr](https://wraithsonwingsposts.tumblr.com/)!


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